We Were Young Enough To Sign Along The Dotted Line
by singyourmelody
Summary: Austin and Ally and the summer spent falling apart and coming back together. Post "Fresh Starts and Farewells." Because how can we just leave it there? Oneshot.


"We Were Young Enough To Sign Along the Dotted Line"

by: singyourmelody

Disclaimer: Don't own Austin & Ally or the characters or the title which was taken from Sleeping at Last's "Mars" or the heading title which was taken from Bastille's "Daniel in the Den," Gin Wigmore's "Saturday Smile," which is the song Ally sings below, or No's "Stay With Me," which is the song Austin sings. Man, that's a lot of things I don't own. This is set after "Fresh Starts and Farewells."

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|| it's harder than you think, telling dreams from one another ||

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She's busy.

Really busy.

The label execs want a full album and she's practically living in the studio and they love most of her stuff and she has a hard time not constantly singing about dreams coming true.

Busy. It makes it easier, really.

His card sits on the piano and she sings.

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Tour is this: sold out shows and screaming fans and late night video games with Dez and milkshakes and miles and miles and miles.

The bus is confining at first.

Sometimes he swears the walls are moving closer and closer, but then Dez and Trish start arguing again from the back of the bus and everything snaps back into place.

Three weeks in and it almost feels like home.

And he doesn't think of her when he orders extra pickles on his burgers and he doesn't think of her when he sees a little girl jumping rope on the sidewalk (without a helmet, might he add) and he doesn't think of her every time his name is announced to thousands of eager fans (because it's not like '_Austin & Ally'_ ever sounded perfect, right?).

He thinks of writing her. He thinks of texting her. He thinks of calling her.

He does none of these things. It's just . . . easier.

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"Too sad," Ronnie Ramone says from the sound booth during his daily check-in.

"I like it. It's somber," Marco, her producer, replies. "It shows character."

Ronnie sighs. "Run it again, I guess."

She places her hands on the keys and begins, pouring every ounce of herself into the words spilling from her lips.

_I've stolen all the stars, make a wish we can fly  
Away, away up high to that old place in time  
Where our pictures never fade and our hearts don't lie  
Won't you stay a while and watch our world go by  
I'll keep holding on to you and your Saturday smile_

_Has our autumn died_  
_Help me find you again_

_I think it's love_  
_I think it's love_  
_That gets us through_  
_All our goodbyes_  
_So when we die_  
_Think of love_  
_I'll think of love_  
_And thoughts of you_  
_To lay me down_  
_I think it's love_  
_That keeps us new_

When she finishes, she studies Ronnie, although she can't quite read his expression.

She loves this song. It's her, it's the place she is at this very moment, spelled out in metaphors and eighth notes, and she's not sure what she'll do if he won't let her put it on the album.

She thinks of _him_, miles away, probably finishing another show, she decides, looking at her watch.

She knows what he'd do. He'd fight. He'd make the case. He'd make it happen. He always does.

Ronnie looks almost thoughtful, as if he's contemplating her words, her artistry, and how far he can push her.

He's not sure of her limits yet. That's okay. She's not sure either.

Finally he relents. "Alright, alright. It's in."

She smiles as Marco smirks.

"Told you. _Character_."

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Day 47.

"Halfway there," Trish announces over breakfast at an IHOP somewhere in Minnesota.

"It's gone by so fast . . . and so slow," he says.

"Austin," Dez says. "Austin. Austin."

"What?" he asks, finally turning to look at his best friend. He knows there's a camera waiting for him when does so.

"The fans need to know. On a scale from one to 'never eating another food ever again in my life because this is so amazingly delicious,' how tasty are the pancakes of good ol' Minnesota?"

He's momentarily distracted by the blinking red light on the camera. It's constant. Steady. He wishes he could be more like it.

"Light and fluffy?" he suggests, when he realizes Dez is waiting for an answer.

Dez nods. "Follow up question. On a scale from one to Ally's pancakes, where do these rate?"

Trish stops eating and looks at him.

Halfway there. They made it halfway through the tour before she came up.

Dez is staring intently at him, so he just shrugs. "Nothing can ever beat Ally's pancakes."

"Knew it," Dez says as he closes the camera. "You think I can get this to go?" he asks, gesturing to the entire left side of the menu he ordered. There's enough food there to feed a small army.

Trish rolls her eyes. "Only 47 more days to go," she mumbles.

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"That's a wrap, Ally."

Tears threaten to spill out when she hears Marco's words.

They've just finished listening to her album in its entirety and it's amazing. It's everything she wanted it to be.

She texts Trish who responds with four exclamations points and a picture of her and Dez screaming.

She smiles but notices there are only two of her best friends in that photo.

He's holding the camera, she tells herself before turning her attention back to Marco.

But she's not sure if that's true.

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They pull into Albuquerque.

And he can't stop thinking about how she wanted to be here.

He misses her.

This is not an understatement. She might have literally joined a club of people with their heads in the clouds, but she's the most level-headed person he knows and he needs that. He's trying to keep himself in check, but it's hard with so many people smiling at him and waiting in lines to meet him and treating his signature as if it really means something. And then there are the girls. Tour means girls and lots of them.

Trish watches him carefully after the shows, when she's not schmoozing some execs or trying to chat up the few celebrities who manage to score backstage passes or pitching new clothing lines ("_Moonsuits_! High end three-pieces for the everyday male. It's the next big thing!"). She's like some sort of secret chaperone and it'd make him mad if he wasn't already chaperoning himself.

The girls are beautiful and exciting and they are interested in him.

He kisses one of them two weeks after they leave Miami and it's nothing like kissing her. It's just not.

He doesn't try again.

After checking into the hotel, Trish and Dez head off to the Albuquerque Cloud Watching Museum, the one she wanted so badly to see, and he decides to practice something new.

Pulling out his guitar, he sings.

_I'm only human, I'm full of mistakes.  
I know you're looking out your window.  
Think you'll be happier in some other place, well that's alright.  
Alright._

_You know that dreaming is a horrible waste,_  
_When you've got everything beside you._  
_Please don't let worry put those lines on your face._  
_You'll be alright, alright, alright, alright._

_I've got this feeling, you'll always be dreaming.  
But where would you go?_

_Stay with me._  
_Wasn't there a place for me inside your heart?_  
_Stay with me._  
_We were never meant to be apart._

_These constellations are not so hard to trace._  
_They always know just where to find us._  
_You stay up waiting 'till they light up your face._  
_You wait all night, all night, all night, all night._

_Take yourself easy, you're always believing._  
_But when will you know?_

_Stay with me._  
_Wasn't there a place for me inside your heart?_  
_Stay with me._  
_We were never meant to be apart._

He exhales and he knows what he's going to do.

Jimmy might not be pleased with the unexpected change, but he doesn't really care. He sings the song that night during the show, just his guitar and him, and it's so different, but sometimes he's allowed to do things differently, right?

The song leads perfectly into an acoustic version of "Steal Your Heart," so he sings that too. When he looks at Trish and Dez, offstage, they look shocked.

He's pretty surprised himself.

"Steal Your Heart" is the one song left off every set list. It has to be.

But not tonight.

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She bites her lip as she watches the video for the third time.

That song. It was for her. She knows the whole internet has seen it. It's actually one of the most viewed videos on YouTube and has been trending on twitter, but really, it was all for her.

Her finger hovers over the _send_ key. She's written and rewritten her text and for someone with all the words, she certainly is struggling.

_Saw the video._

_How's tour?_

_My album is finished._

_Why are you doing this?_

_I miss you._

She deletes it all.

Instead she sends him the link to the video and writes,

_Those nights everything felt like magic . . ._

Within moments, he responds,

_We were never the same._

_._

_._

_._

They pull back into Miami at 4:30 in the morning.

Dez is drooling on Trish's shoulder and Harry, the bus driver, looks half-asleep even though he's consumed twelve cups of coffee, so he gets his bag and steps off the bus into the crisp night air.

It's over.

Just like that.

His first tour. Done.

The whole thing seems a little anti-climactic really.

He turns to say goodbye to Trish, but she's already climbing into her parents' car and Dez seems to be cozied up in the backseat and there's nothing left for him to do, but to go home.

His mom had dropped off their car the day before for him, so he climbs in and pulls out onto the street.

Only he doesn't go home.

He goes to her house.

He knows she's probably going to be asleep and that she can be totally cranky when woken up, but he doesn't really care. She can yell at him for hours if she wants to.

The night is overcast and her house is dark and he pulls in front but can't actually bring himself to knock on her door.

It is 4:30 in the morning. He's exhausted from tour. And really, they've communicated, what five words to each other in last three months? What is he even going to say? What is there to say?

He pulls away.

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The reunion happens at Sonic Boom.

They just walk through the door when she checking out a customer as if it's just any other day, just any other Team Austin and Ally meeting, and she squeals and hugs Trish. Dez is next.

When she gets to him, he says, "Hi Alls" and hugs her tighter than she ever can remember.

"The gang's all here," Dez says.

She smiles. This, the four of them, this _is_ the gang.

It's perfect.

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It's not perfect.

It's awkward.

At least when it's just the two of them, it is. They try to get back into a pattern of singing and songwriting, but big questions with no answers seem to loom heavy over the piano. And the practice room. And even the courtyard where their lockers are.

She wants to ask him about tour.

He wants to ask her about her album.

She knows she picked herself over him. That doesn't go unnoticed. She chose her dream over his.

He knows he can't be upset with her for staying behind. It was her dream. He's proud of her for it.

It doesn't mean the fabric of their relationship hasn't been altered. It doesn't mean that everything can instantly go back to the way it was.

And even if it could, he's not sure he wants it to. Neither is she.

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Her album arrives, twelve songs etched onto shiny plastic, and she slaps a copy down on the counter in front of him.

"Post-production took a little longer than usual, but it's here!" she says, practically jumping up and down with excitement.

He nods. "Awesome. Can we listen to it later? I almost have this chorus finished," he states, turning back to the page he is writing on.

She stares at him for a moment, before leaving the CD on the counter and returning to stocking shelves.

Trish and Dez eye each other wearily.

"Ally, this looks amazing," Trish says. "I'm gonna go download it into my laptop."

"And I'm going to start sketching out music video ideas. How do you feel about riding a camel through a snowstorm, Ally?" Dez asks.

"Not good," she says, deadpanned.

"So what you're saying is, you'd maybe be open to it?"

She rolls her eyes as Trish says "We're going to get pizza. It's almost time to close up. You guys want to come?"

"No," she says, in chorus with his "Nah, I'm good."

She finishes the shelves and locks the door behind Trish and Dez. As she's closing down the register, she can hear the piano playing from the practice room, before it abruptly stops and he rushes down the stairs.

"Got it!"

"Got what?"

"The chorus. It's so great. Want to hear it?" he asks.

"Can we listen to it later? I almost have this cash register finished," she says, echoing his words from before.

"So that's how it is, huh?" he asks, his eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, I guess that's how it is."

He scoffs and moves towards the door.

"That's it?" she asks. "You're just going to walk away from this?"

He shrugs. "Learned from the best," he says, gesturing to her.

He unlocks the door loudly and it slams shut behind him.

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She shows up at his house. It's late, but she doesn't really care.

She knocks twice and he opens the door and says, "Oh."

Nodding, she says, "Yeah. Oh."

He looks down at her hand, the one that's holding a card covered in small flowers, and he immediately starts shifting from foot to foot.

"Do you know that I read over this card every single day that I was in the studio? It was some sort of reminder for me that you were still with me. That I wasn't making my album alone. Every day, Austin."

"I-"

"I- you what?"

He doesn't say anything.

"Why is this so hard?" she says, exasperated, before sitting on his front step.

He sits next to her.

"I don't know. I feel like I can't talk to you anymore," he says finally.

"I feel the same way."

"Why?"

She shrugs. "We've both had these amazing experiences but for once we didn't share them. Everything about your music and my music has been something we've done together. Until now."

He nods and props his elbows on his knees.

"I loved tour. But it wasn't everything I thought it'd be and I couldn't figure out why. It was you," he says quietly. "I wanted you to be with me so badly, Ally. But I couldn't tell you that."

She closes and opens her eyes. "I wanted _you_ to be with _me_, Austin. I was finally making my album. But I didn't have you to bounce songs off of or tell me that I need to make things more fun. I am a little worried my album is going to be kind of sad."

"It's not. Not at all."

She smiles. "You listened to it?"

"Of course. It's amazing. Really beautiful songs, Ally. There's so much of you in them," he says.

"Thank you."

They sit in silence for a few moments.

Finally she holds up the card and asks, "Did you mean what you wrote in here?"

He nods.

"You're the most important person in my life, too," she replies.

"Then we've got to fix this," he says.

"Yeah, we do."

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They try to get back into a pattern of singing and songwriting, but this time, when the big questions loom, they just ask them.

It's easy, really.

They keep writing together and they start singing together more too.

He sings backup for her first headlining gig and they don't tell anybody so that they know for sure that all those people who showed up (her first sold out crowd) were really there for her.

She makes him pancakes on a Saturday morning that he swears are the best in the continental United States.

And she introduces him to Marcus, her producer, and they play a couple of smaller shows together around town and share pizza on Tuesday nights while watching episodes of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and New Girl, and it's different, because they're different, but eventually this becomes their life.

This becomes how it is.

This becomes real.

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It's not a surprise when he kisses her on a Wednesday night as they are walking home from the Sonic Boom.

They spend almost all of their time together and they were so close to all of this before tour and the album and it took them a while to get back here, but none of those feelings have ever gone away, so why not now?

She's rambling on about their set list for the show at Miami's newest café and whether they should start with the new song they just finished or take it back to basics and he stops walking and kisses her.

It takes her a moment to respond, but then she does and it's so much better than anything either of them could have imagined.

She's the first to pull back.

"But what about our music? What if we're split up again? How do we stay ourselves and not get lost in this?" she asks.

He knows she's right to be asking. He's lost in everything about them right now. And they need to remain focused. They need to remain strong.

Finally he shrugs. "I want to be with you. Like this."

"I want to be with you too."

"Then let's just do this."

She thinks for a moment. "This could be a mistake."

He nods. "Yeah it could. Let's make this mistake. Please."

He can see any resolve she might have had crumbling.

She steps forward and kisses him again, lightly. "Oops," she says, smiling.

He pulls her close.

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.

There are definitely times where it feels like a mistake.

They fight a lot. Over songs, over schedules, sometimes even over the constant attention he especially needs to be giving his music.

It's hard to have room for it all.

They were best friends first. And best friends know how to hurt each other. There are days where they don't talk. They are both experts in how words can sting.

But then there are times where it's most definitely not a mistake.

Like when he drags her to the newest horror movie but he ends up missing almost all of it, because she just keeps kissing and kissing and kissing him.

And when he tries to bake cookies for their anniversary, and enlists Trish to help him, so they turn out to be the worst thing she's ever tasted. She smiles anyway, because he tried so hard and has flour in his hair and how can she not?

And there are times like right now when the two collide. Mistake, not a mistake, how can they even tell anymore? They're arguing over priorities (their most frequent argument) and she storms out this time, but he stops her and wraps his arms around her and holds her rooted in place.

She doesn't hug him back at first, but he doesn't move.

Slowly, her arms wrap around him.

"Don't let go just yet," he says, mirroring her words from long ago.

"I wasn't going to," she replies.

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|| End ||


End file.
